Ripples
by Kitty Katana
Summary: [A collection of one-shots and shorts on various subjects] 2nd ripple up: 'Orphans'. "Men are what their mothers made them." -R.W. Emerson
1. Impulsive

**Ripples:**

A/N: The first chapter of my first FMA fic, if you can even call it that. Most were composed during 6th period geometry… it's a long class, so be nice. If I run them out of character, please tell me… I'm not the most knowledgeable person on all the ins and outs. All pairings will be cannon, sorry, folks.

The first stone: _Impulsive_

_-----------------------_

Winry Rockbell was fairly well convinced that this was the stupidest thing she'd ever done. Actually, she was probably more sure.

She decided at the very moment that she was far to impulsive. Sure, everyone had told her that before, but now she was actually realizing the full extent of her lack of self-control. Maybe she ought to listen more, too. But it wasn't as if she could take it back now. It wasn't as if he was going to just forget.

Served him right, though. After all this… after all the times he had shown up on her doorstep with nothing but a worn bag and a contrite smile… after all the times she'd been there… he just kept running. She couldn't quite figure what was so scary about her, what drove him away. Okay, so the wrench was a little bit scary. Fine. That still didn't excuse him. Even the suggestion of him just turning tail and leaving again was enough to make her blood boil.

Still… that didn't exactly excuse her either. But she'd been through everything with him… from the times they'd spent together as children to the painful auto-mail surgery just hours ago. That didn't exactly cool her down either. Why should she work hours on end repairing the armor that he'd managed to destroy time and time again? Why did it stop bothering her more than superficially when he showed up at the door? Because then he came back… he came home. He still left her with half an idea to beat him senseless for going in the first place.

This wasn't a punishment for leaving… it was a supplication for his staying. And it had just the right effect, too. They hadn't moved an inch in about a minute.

He looked terrified, composure completely broken. He was a glowing red and she noticed the slightest tremble across his shoulders. But he wasn't running away. She'd effectively stopped the Full Metal alchemist in his tracks as few others had before. And as long as she could, she was going to keep it that way, no matter how foolish she was going to feel later for this. His bright golden eyes were frozen in something akin to shock. His coat was wrinkling where her fingers gripped it with animalistic ferocity. What had brought them to this?

_

* * *

"Thanks for everything Winry…!" _

_She only heard it from upstairs. She'd just left the shower, and they knew it. They had to find some method of escape. It was getting to hard to sneak out on Winry when she patrolled the grounds at night. But the Elrics were sure they'd found the solution. She'd never come after them in nothing but a bath towel. Even she wasn't that crazy. _

_They were running, full sprint through the kitchen. Al was no more than a step ahead of his older brother, but it was enough. There was a second's delay that stopped Edward from reaching the door. It was a second enough. She'd managed to secure the towel, but the elder brother found himself facing a very angry, barely dressed Rockbell. "C-come on, Winry…" He whined. It was far too late for pleading now. She felt the tears hot in her eyes, but she wasn't going to cry. She had to do something, though. …Oh, she had the worst idea._

And, damn her impulsive streak, she'd not thought a instant more.

* * *

At last, she was forced to relinquish her moment of triumph. Stupid air. Who needed air, anyway? 

He didn't move, didn't breath. In fact, for a second she thought she might have killed him. Oh, this was not going to end well. She was absolutely sure now. _This is the stupidest, most impulsive…_

"Winry…"

_…most ridiculous… ludicrous… crazy…_

"Y-y-you kissed me…"

_…most bizarre…_

He slumped against the wall, still reeling. The younger was halfway up the road, looking back. But Edward had lost all previous control of any limbs whatsoever. He was still staring at her as if she'd slapped him clear across the room.

"I'm gonna go sit…" he absently muttered.

_…most effective idea I've ever had._


	2. Orphans

The second stone: Orphans

Black. At every turn, the color choked out the light. Suits, cars, dresses… Everything was bland, uniformed black. She would have hated it. She always liked color- pinks and greens of spring, blues of summer, red and gold in the autumn, pure and perfected whites in the winter. There was a vividness to her. She was so… alive.

Not anymore.

She was drowned in this sea of black, in this all-consuming ocean of darkness. She was gone, leaving them behind with nothing but a prayer. There would be no pleasant way of seeing her again…

She left them, standing on a hill, staring at a cold stone. Not a glance at her smiling face, not a note of her comforting voice, not the warmth of her hand to brush away the tears. Nothing left but slate and fresh-dug earth. All they had now was each other. They would forever be orphans, no matter what path they took from that spot. More than once, one or the other had considered never moving again. How long they actually sat there, they couldn't remember. Sunrise and sunset were indeterminable, but by the time they finally managed to wake themselves from this strange coma, every muscle ached and every bone was sore.

Everything and nothing changed. Maybe it was that which so disturbed the brothers. Their lives had shattered. All former dreams, hopes, fantasies… they were gone in an instant. Something inside of them had been torn forcefully away, and their bodies cried out for it. And yet, outside their slowly sinking world, not a thing had changed. A few words of sympathy, a passing gaze, flowers on her grave. But the world continued to revolve. It shouldn't have. Did no one else realize? She was their light. Could no one else see the two children she had left in the dark? Didn't they care?

A sunset in blood seemed to set the marker to glowing a pale crimson. She had shed not a drop of blood. She left no mess for her little ones to clean up. She'd always been so concerned for their welfare.

She made them what they were, shaped them into what they would become, guided them down the right path. Who would show them the way now? How would thy go on without her?

It was in that moment, in the dark as the elder had sat staring at her grave that he realized… they couldn't. And they didn't have to. They wouldn't. What God had so cruelly snatched away, the boy was full willing to take back- with force, need be. And there was only one weapon powerful enough to challenge such an almighty deity. It was in that moment that he had taken up this noble crusade. Maybe it was for her… maybe it was for Alphonse… mostly, it was for him. He needed her…

It was not long after that he had come to understand the full consequences of challenging an omnipotent being.

…

"Brother?"

Edward barely heard his younger brother, his tawny eyes locked on the scenery bleeding together in the full summer bloom. A cold metal hand rested on the sill, warmed only by the flesh of his cheek supported on it.

"Brother?"

"Mm?"

He got an impression of concern from his young brother, but he couldn't really tell. A face made of metal revealed few emotions effectively. He was convinced he would succeed with Alphonse where he had failed with their mother. That would be remedied sooner rather than later. Still, a weight dropped into the older Elric's stomach.

"We're almost there…"

His blank voice betrayed none of the silent terror he'd been feeling since he began to recognize scenery out the train window. They were almost there… almost… home. There was no house. There were certain things that the brothers would have to leave behind them… some they left willingly. But there was a single spot where they had each left a piece of their hearts.

Up on a grassy hill, protected by a gnarled tree, where the sun set blood red beneath the horizon, there she was. There she would always be, watching, quietly waiting for their reunion, hoping it would not come to soon. And as the pair cast their shadow over her name carved in cold stone, they felt a certain degree of warmth. As long as she stood there with them, they wouldn't be orphans. As long as she kept smiling in their heads, there would be this warmth. As long as they kept those bright flowers over her grave, she was still alive somewhere.

And maybe that was enough.

"Men are what their mothers made them." -Ralph Waldo Emerson


End file.
